


The Cabin

by Riain



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2323397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riain/pseuds/Riain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a tidbit I wrote from a picture prompt someone sent me on Tumblr. It does not list specifically who the female is in the piece, as the requester didn't specify who. So put any TWD female in the place of the woman paired with Daryl. Even the male is a little ambiguous, but from certain word cues you can figure out it's Daryl. That was the one thing the writer asked, that it be Daryl without it being said it is Daryl. I hope you all enjoy! If you would like me to write something, please leave your requests in the comments!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cabin

Looking out the window of the cabin up in the Bighorns, as far as her eyes could see was snow. It was the dead of winter for Wyoming, anyone or thing that wandered this far up the range was looking for trouble. She remembered why he had brought her here, why they had to stop for the winter. He knew coming this far west, and this far up the mountain range they would have a better chance of finding food. The cozy little cabin was pure luck to be honest, she   was glad to see it looming in the distance when they walked the almost invisible path up the mountain. She had lost her footing once, scraping the palms of her hands raw as she caught herself from falling further down the mountain.

          “You okay?” He growled, reaching down to help her up, his heart beating fast in his chest. He didn’t want her knowing he was scared to death to think of her falling down the mountain and him helpless to save her. She meant so much to him, more than he would ever admit, even to her. As much as she says he saved her, which he thought was bullshit, it was she that saved him.

          She gulped air into her lungs, willing herself to calm before the quavering words escaped her lips. “I think so. Let’s just keep going” He pulled her into the warmth of his side, the clothes they were traveling in were not meant for the fall weather that had surprised them on the long drive. It was fall, the leaves on the trees turning hues of orange and red with the weather turning colder. By the time they had reached the cabin, she was more than glad to find it empty and unlocked. It took them a few weeks to get the cabin sorted out and prepared for winter. He had spent most of the time hunting game, hanging it from the rafters of the curing shed to cure. This was a mountain man’s home, someone who was accustomed to living off the land. She knew that he would teach her how to survive in the wilderness--he wouldn’t let her die.

* * *

 

          She saw him coming through the trees, a travois dragging behind the horse he was riding. Venturing out down the other side of the mountain led them to an abandoned ranch house back before the first snowfall. They had loaded up the four horses with anything they could use, retreating to the cabin before nightfall. On the travois looked like supplies loaded under a tarp, her heart flip-flopped when he looked up into the window of the house, right at her.

          His keen eyesight caught sight of her watching him come in from the trek for supplies in the bedroom window. He was glad she didn’t push the issue of coming with him, he had been gone a week longer than normal. However, he had found things she needed, and he wasn’t about to leave them behind. He considered asking her to move out to the farmhouse he had found as he pushed farther out the radius of the cabin, but the more he considered it he knew she wouldn’t leave the remote safety of the cabin. He raised his hand in greeting, seeing her move from the window; he knew she was heading down the stairs to greet him.

          She ran out the door, not even thinking of putting on her boots. She didn’t care about the snow crunching under her bare feet. All she cared about was getting to him as quick as she could. She needed that reassurance that he was real and not a figment of her imagination. Her eyes trained on him as he slid down out of the saddle, the worn drover coat falling around his boots.

          She hit him like a stampede of horses, her arms wrapping around the waxed canvas of the drover coat as she buried her face in his chest. He could feel her wrapped tightly around him, his gloved hands palming the back of her head and shoulders as he pulled her close. He breathed in the scent of her clean hair, the coconut scent subtle but there still. He kissed her hair, as she pulled ever so closer to him.

          “I was so worried about you, but I knew you would come home to me.” Her eyes glittered with tears; gentle snowflakes fell from his hat into her face.

          He smirked, the crow’s feet around his eyes apparent with his grin. “Aww baby girl, you knew I’d come home. Ain’t nothing gonna keep me from you.” He knew she would worry about him being gone, that was how she was, especially since it was just the two of them to rely on each other.

          He pulled away from her, looking down to see her bare feet. The protective streak in him flared, she was trying to catch the death of cold out in the snow. “You need to get inside. Bare feet and all. Get on inside, I’ll bring it in.”

          She huffed, watching him untie the tarp covering the goods he found while he was out hunting. He kept such a good watch on her, to the point that it was sometimes suffocating. She loved him and hated him all in one, even with the given circumstances. She turned, trotting through the snow into the house. The warmth from the woodstove radiated through her frozen skin, warming her through.

* * *

 

          He came inside with bags of food and linens. She dutifully unpacked everything he brought inside, her eyes popping at the bag of clothes he had found for her. He knew something was different with her, knew she would need new clothes soon. She heard him beating the snow off his hat at the front door, his boots making solid sounds falling to the wood floor.

          She set a meager meal out on the table for him, deer, green beans and bread. It wasn’t much, but it would keep them going. She was sure that after being gone for so long out hunting and scavenging, he would be starving. They ate in silence; he felt more comfortable eating rather than talking.

          They worked together to clean up from dinner, her hands deftly washing the dishes while he dried and put them away. This was a regular dance between them, a regular familiarity they had grown accustomed to. Her hip brushed against his thigh, there was no mistaking the tension rolling off him with that innocent touch. Two weeks had passed since he’d had any human contact; the horses were his company on his trip.

          He followed her up the stairs to their loft bedroom, his eyes adjusting to the dark quickly, making her nightgown almost sheer. He was relieved that she kept a fire going in the upstairs pellet stove, the bedroom was a welcome warmth compared to sleeping in cold homes or bundled up inside an abandoned barn in the straw of a stall with the horses.

          He watched her turn down the double bed they had learned to share, when they had first came upon the cabin he had taken to sleeping on the worn sofa downstairs. Nevertheless, over the passing months his pride and his heart gave in, until the night he came to the bedroom as she was laying down. Roughened hands grazed tender skin, in the quiet still of the night he showed her the feelings he couldn’t put to words. Now, months later into the winter his mind recalls those memories as if it was last night. Every shiver of her skin, every gasp and moan of his name against his scarred skin rushing back to him, making him hunger for her.

          He jerks his shirt over his head, his gait eating up the space between them as he closes the distance. He takes her face between his hands, kissing her with an unbridled passion that only loneliness can bring about. She accepts his darting tongue, not caring he tastes of coffee, moaning into his mouth. Her fingers glide down his chest, struggling to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. Without breaking the kiss, he helps her trembling fingers, stepping out of the jeans to stand naked before her. She gasps at the turgid length straining against her stomach through the thin cotton nightdress she still wears.

          He groans, feeling her hand wrap around him, testing the weight she knows all too well. Her eyes glitter in the firelight as she gazes up at him, eyes glazed over with lust for this man naked before her. It is in that moment an animalistic growl escapes him, he backs her onto the bed with his body. The backs of her knees hit the bed; she falls into a sitting position, taking him into her mouth carefully. His eyes slam shut, a tight breath sucked through teeth. She brings him nearly to the brink of orgasm, her ministrations screeching to a halt when he pushes her back onto the bed, his fingers running up her thighs under the nightdress.

* * *

 

          He finds a restraint he didn’t know he possessed, every fiber in him wanted to tear that flimsy nightdress from her skin and bury himself deep within her. Something stopped him as he slid fingers inside her, the groan heavy on her lips as she gripped his wrist, her hips grinding against his hand. Heartbeats pass, she calls out his name in the night as the orgasm she needed courses through her body. He grins, leaning over to kiss her gently, slowly withdrawing his fingers from her. Her body shivers involuntarily at the loss of him within her; he sees the pain in her eyes, his heart hammers in his chest as she parts her thighs, wanting of him once more.

          He can’t deny her, he loves her too much not to give her that moment of becoming one breath, one soul, one heart. She cries out as he enters her, the fit is always a bit tight no matter how much he gives her pleasure beforehand. Her lithe form still needs to stretch in so many ways yet still before the pain subsides from him making love to her. A handful of strokes later and stars pop behind his eyelids, his fingers gripping into her thighs, sure to leave bruises later. Once more, she is his, for one night longer they are together.

          He lays down on the bed next to her, pulling her against his chest, her body molding into his. His hand rests on the gentle swell of her belly, a watery grin creeping across his lips. Three weeks ago, that small mound wasn’t there, he’d missed too much since he left. He knew it was possible, even against the odds. He knew she wouldn’t have told him until she was sure it would stay with her, he will keep her secret. His tears fall into the pillow, his world is now complete with her, in this snowy cabin in the middle of nowhere. She is his family, his heart, his soul, his wife until his dying day.


End file.
